


Because The Walls Have Ears (And The Windows Have Eyes)

by Kvaesir



Series: Glass Lampshades [2]
Category: Call of Cthulhu (Roleplaying Game), Dick Hardy's Investigators Office, Original Work
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Ruth has trauma and questionable coping mechanisms, This was meant to be one fic and now it's a series, This will be explored do not worry my friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:54:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23658706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kvaesir/pseuds/Kvaesir
Summary: There was an prickling on the back of her neck that wouldn't go away no matter how many times she paced the flat.The logical solution was clearly to break into her boss's office for, what was it, the fourth time this month?This takes place roughly 5 years after You Think You're In Control (Trust Me, You're Not)
Series: Glass Lampshades [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1806043
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6
Collections: Dick Hardy's Investigators Office





	Because The Walls Have Ears (And The Windows Have Eyes)

Ruth slid the window to her third story flat open, looking out onto the dimly lit street for any sign of movement before climbing out onto the thin ledge. She carefully reached back inside, retrieving a small block of wood from the windowsill and slid the window closed again, making sure the wood held it slightly open. The gap was small enough that it wouldn’t be noticed from the street, just big enough to slide a finger or two under and ensure a way back into the flat if it was needed. After the latch had caught one night and she’d had to pick the lock on her door to get back in she’d been sure to to correct that issue. She checked inside the papoose, Mr Tubbs staring up at her with wide eyes, before climbing down the drainpipe, careful but sure, and made her way to Dick’s.

It didn’t take long to walk to Leicester Square and Ruth hurried to get her lockpicks ready as she took the steps up to Dick’s office two at a time. As unlikely as it was for the police to be in the area so late, she knew all too well there were others who wouldn’t think twice if they thought they saw an opportunity. She had her switchblade, of course, but she’d already gotten blood on Dick’s floor once this month. Ruth was sure he wouldn’t appreciate it happening a second time. Before long, the lock to Dick’s office clicked open and she gave one last glance around the quiet, empty streets, removed her tools from the door and crept into the darkened flat. There was still a prickling feeling up the back of her neck that she was being watched. _You’re being silly_ , she reminded herself. _It was years ago. They’re dead_. Still, the feeling was there, and she’d be damned if something wasn’t done about it.

Unfortunately for Dick, that “something” often involved breaking into his flat late at night. He was still in the shower, she could hear the water running, but Carmen and Danny would already be asleep by now, which meant the only risk of being caught was going to be when Dick had to walk through the living room to get to his bedroom. Hopping up onto the desk, Ruth settled into wait. Once Dick was in his room she’d have free rein of the office, including the drawer where he kept the case files. That was tonight’s mission. It hadn’t been that long since she’d stolen Dick’s suit and contrary to popular belief, she did have some morals. He deserved a break. Sometimes.

The clock hung opposite Dick’s desk, and despite not being able to see it in the dark, Ruth stared at it’s spot on the wall, counting the ticking of the pendulum while she waited for Dick to come out of the shower. After what felt like much longer than it actually had been, Dick padded into the living room, finding his way past Ruth as she smirked despite the breath she was holding, and finally shut the door to his room. Now she could get a candle, the case files and maybe a little whisky for the hell of it. Not like Dick needed an excuse to drink more of the stuff anyway.

Three hours later, Ruth was still sat outside the door to Dick’s bedroom, case files on her lap and the candle beside her significantly shorter than when she’d begun her research into the new case. There wasn’t actually much information yet. There had been a string of robberies recently and the police weren’t taking it seriously, it was a seemingly simple case. A nice break from lizard people skulking around in sewers. Perhaps there’d be less injuries this time round too.

Another hour, then home. Dick wouldn’t know she’d been in the office or that she hadn’t slept and any imagined people who might have been watching her apartment would have surely given up and left by then. Ruth slipped a hand into the papoose, smiling at the sleepy meow that emerged from within it. There wasn’t much more she could do here without more information or talking to the others about possible theories. Of course, that would have to wait until Dick had actually asked them to look at the case files.

If she’d been paying attention, Ruth would have seen the light in Dick’s room turn on from under the door or heard his footsteps approaching the door. As it happened, she hadn’t, and was still sitting in front of the doorway when Dick came out of his room. Apparently he hadn’t seen her, because he managed to bump his knee into her forehead before reacting to her presence.

“Before you ask, I was looking at the case files.” Ruth smiled up at him, carefully ignoring the fact he was naked. On one hand, this was his flat. On the other, he had Carmen and Danny living with him and any decent person wouldn’t be walking around their home naked unless they lived alone.

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose. “What else did you take?”

“Your whisky, because you certainly don’t need it.” Dick sighed, bending to pick up the nearly half full bottle from beside her, only for Ruth to swipe it away from him. Locking eyes with him, she raised the bottle to her lips, downing it. Maybe it was true that she tried to avoid large quantities of alcohol as a general rule, but it wasn’t like Dick was going to do anything. The worst he’d ever done was kick her out his office and she really didn’t think he’d do that if she was drunk. Maybe today was the day she found out for sure. The office was safe, Dick was safe and on the off chance she’d seriously misjudged him, Carmen was within screaming distance. Better she was drunk than Dick. His liver would thank her later.

Several emotions flickered across his face before settling on weary acceptance of the situation and Dick disappeared into his room, reappearing with another bottle of whisky and, thankfully, wearing boxers.

“As you’re already here and you have the cases files out, you may as well show me what you’ve got.” He motioned to the doorway leading back to his office. “We both know you’re not going to leave yet, even if I ask.”

They were still hunched over the desk several hours later, light streaming in from the window even as the candle continued burning despite its recent redundancy. The bottle of whisky and the accompanying glasses had long since been emptied and the conversation drifted from the case to small talk before tailing off completely. Dick pushed his chair away from his desk and made his way into the kitchen to make tea for them both.

When he returned, Ruth had her head rested on one hand, eyes drifting closed for a few moments before the arm supporting her head moved far enough to startle her awake again, only to move back into her original position for it to happen again.

It didn’t take a genius to work out that she hadn’t slept yet, no matter how well she thought she could hide it. The kid was clearly exhausted and they had to be at the shooting range with Morgan in just under three hours. If Ruth thought he was going to let her handle a weapon on no sleep and almost a full bottle of whisky, she had another thing coming. If only for the public’s sake.

Dick placed both cups on his desk and tapped Ruth on the arm, waiting for her to move from her slumped position before speaking.

“Drink that, then you’re going home to sleep.” He pushed the unspiked cup towards her, expecting Ruth to protest that she didn’t need sleep. Instead she simply picked the cup up and started drinking it as instructed. He was somewhat pleasantly surprised. It certainly made his job easier, even if it was disconcerting to see Ruth not exerting energy to wind him up. He was only halfway through his cup when she put the cup back on the desk and picked up the case file again.

“I meant it Ruth. Home, now.”

Ruth paused mid-page flip, turning to look at where he was half sat, half leant against the windowsill with his arms folded across his chest. His expression was the same one he wore when she did something dumb. Like when she’d been shot last week and refused to admit it, only for Morgan to rat on her. Stern, with an undercurrent of weariness. Ruth held his gaze for a moment, before sighing and dropping the file back on the desk when he didn’t budge. Not that she’d really expected him to.

“Alright, fine. I’ll go.” Her head was already starting to hurt from the effects of the whisky and she knew from experience that it’d only be worse in a few hours, surrounded by gunshots. How Dick drank so much on a regular basis both amazed and concerned her. Ruth pushed her chair back from the desk, Dick following closely behind her as she headed for the door, herding her out of his office and back onto the street. The door was shut firmly behind her as she smiled to herself. Anyone would think he didn’t trust me to actually leave.

10 minutes later, she was back in Covent Gardens, observing the street from an alley near the flat. The plan of climbing back in through the window had long since, well, gone out the window. It was too light now, as a result of staying far later at Dick’s than she’d originally planned. Of course, it wasn’t like she could have left an hour after Dick had found her in his office with the excuse that she needed to climb in the window before the sun came up. He already thought she was needlessly reckless.

While it would be easy enough to prove the flat was hers, the lockpicks and the fact she’d been climbing in through the window would be far more difficult to explain. _Better to bite the bullet and use the door_. She swallowed thickly at the thought, fingering the strap holding the switchblade under the short sleeve of the dress before slipping out of the alleyway and into the block of flats.

It was fine. She wasn’t being watched. They were dead, she’d made certain of that a long time ago.


End file.
